


Finding Misty

by Bleumoo



Category: American Horror Story, American Horror Story: Coven
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-04
Updated: 2018-11-04
Packaged: 2019-08-18 18:45:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,155
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16522595
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bleumoo/pseuds/Bleumoo
Summary: (this was written when coven first aired. ) Post-finale of Coven. The new Supreme has risen, but something is missing.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I have put this story on hiatus as of November 2018. I currently have no plans to return to it, but I'm not saying I never will.

It was exhausting to be the Supreme.

Cordelia shut the door to her room and kicked off her heels before collapsing in a heap on her bed.

It was not the power or the following fame that made Cordelia grateful for her new position, rather the hope she felt during the long days spent planning for the future of her witches. She didn't have to scout for students anymore; they lined up at the front door of the Academy, begging for knowledge and a place to call home. Cordelia was happy to oblige, and she and Zoe had purchased two more houses in the city this week to accommodate the ever expanding student body. One week as the new Supreme and she'd seen more witches at her doorstep than she'd ever seen in her life.

The newfound vigor that had come into this coven truly did make Cordelia ecstatic, as did the brilliant girls that she appointed as her Council. Her days were spent with Zoe and Queenie discussing their future plans, getting to know her new charges and attempting to undo the leftover disaster that her mother had left in her wake. The days were full and happy, and Cordelia was thankful for that.

The nights, however, were her undoing.

The smile she plastered on her face for all to see disappeared the moment her door locked. The heavy weight of despair that Misty's death caused never seemed to dissipate. It lessened to manageable levels with the light of day only to come crashing back when Cordelia was alone.

She could feel the tears welling up in her eyes as the ache in her chest began to expand. Oh, how she missed Misty.

She missed Myrtle, of course. She even missed her mother on scattered occasions. But Misty, her sweet Misty…

This is different, she mused as her hand slid under the pillow beside her. This is worse.

Her fingers curled around the edge of soft fabric, tugging gently on it to loosen it from the hold of the pillowcase. She gingerly brought the shawl to her nose, inhaling the lingering scent of the woman who had turned to ash in her arms. It smelled like earth and honeysuckle, like lilies and fresh air. It smelled like Misty, and it smelled like home.

The knot in Cordelia's chest rose to her throat as the tears began to spill down her cheeks.

I could have saved her. I should have done something. Damn the rules, no one gave a shit about the rules any other time and now she's gone. She's gone. My Misty Day. My love…

With that, the dam broke.

Clutching Misty's shawl to her chest, Cordelia began to sob. She rocked back and forth; attempting unsuccessfully to stifle the weeping she knew was unbecoming for a Supreme. She didn't care, and so she cried.

She cried for Misty, she cried for herself and she cried for the love she was a fool to ignore.

As they did every night, her tears ran out after a time and she was left quietly whimpering Misty's name again and again. As she fell into a restless sleep, she curled around the shawl, burying her nose in the light suede fabric.

I will find you.

I will always find you.

In the hallway, Zoe finally laid down the book she had procured from one of the new students.

It was her nightly ritual to listen to her Supreme, her friend, wail over the loss of Misty Day. She felt sorry for Cordelia. They all missed Misty, but Cordelia had lost a part of her that fateful morning.

She had at first felt as if she was intruding, but her concern for the woman who had brought her back from the dead won out in the end. Every night, she sat vigil outside Cordelia's door, slipping into the mind of any girl who happened to pass by at this hour to block their awareness of Cordelia's cries. Cordelia maintained an air of control and strength, knowledge and compassion to these girls, it wouldn't do to have them judging Cordelia on something they couldn't possibly understand. Zoe had decided the day after the Seven Wonders that she had to help Cordelia somehow, and with Queenie's assistance they began monitoring their arrivals for something, anything that may have an answer to their predicament. The book she held in her hand was promising. Queenie had discovered it in the possession of a young girl from the West Coast and had managed to barter a trade with the girl for the time being.

It spoke of a Native American ritual, with obvious roots in witchcraft that could call a soul back from the depths of Hell. The requirements were strict, and the process itself was dangerous, but she knew that they owed it to Cordelia to make her aware of the ritual.

The first requirement was by far the easiest to meet. It called for the remains of the lost and a memento that held great sentimental power to both the wanderer and the one attempting to call the trapped soul back.

Everyone knew that Cordelia had kept Misty's ashes and that they sat in an intricate urn on the mantle, as her eyes were drawn to it whenever they met in the drawing room, almost as if she expected Misty to appear when she wasn't looking.

As for the sentimental item, Kyle had informed her one day that he had just barely managed to stop one of the new maids from removing Misty's shawl from Cordelia's room. Zoe knew she kept that hidden under her pillow. She also knew that Cordelia kept almost all of Misty's possessions, as she had been the one to help the Supreme move her things when they were forced to give a couple of new students Misty's old room. She didn't allow the new girls to assist, even though they offered, stating that it was not their job.

Zoe knew the truth, that Cordelia didn't trust their new charges to see her choke up while packing Misty's things.

She had heard Cordelia stifle a cry that day, and as Zoe turned to face her she felt her heart constrict painfully in her chest. The look of abject sadness on Cordelia's face as she held the shawl loosely in her hands made Zoe go to her. It was the one Stevie Nicks had gifted to Misty when she visited the coven.

Zoe held out her arms to Cordelia, who hesitated a brief moment. Cordelia glanced up at the door to the room and it quietly shut under her direction. Zoe could see that silent tears were coursing down the Supreme's cheeks. She clutched the garment to her chest and lifted her eyes to Zoe's. She spoke then, her voice tight and raw.

"I loved her. Zoe, I loved her and I never told her…"

The older woman's shoulders began to shake as she stepped into Zoe's embrace.

She rubbed Cordelia's back comfortingly as the Supreme cried in her arms. "I know…I know, Cordelia."

However at a loss for words she was at that moment, Zoe decided that something had to be done. Even though the Supreme had thanked her for her kindness, she hadn't spoken of that day since. Zoe let her ignore it, and for the time being their busy days were filled with their duty to the coven. At night, she and Queenie searched together to fulfill their duty to their friend, their Supreme.

Hearing Cordelia finally fall silent, Zoe stood up quietly and headed towards the room she now shared with Queenie. Cordelia had offered them their own rooms, but they had declined in favor of providing more space for their new girls. She didn't mind, and Queenie was a hell of a lot easier to live with than Madison.

She pushed the door open as Queenie looked up from the pile of books strewn across her bed.

"Hey, Zoe. She asleep?"

Zoe nodded, shutting their door behind her. "I think I found something. It starts on page 42."

She held out the book to Queenie, who took it and began to scan the pages.

"This looks do-able…dangerous, but do-able. You think she's gonna be up for trying?"

Zoe took a seat on her bed, rubbing her tired eyes. "I don't know. It's the most promising so far."

Queenie nodded as she removed the piles of tomes from her bed with a wave of her hand. They settled in orderly piles across the room.

"We have to try, for Cordelia's sake," Zoe said as she lay back in her bed, crossing her arms across her chest and closing her eyes, "and Misty's."


	2. Chapter 2

Cordelia was falling, endlessly falling, down and down.

Images swirled past her; Myrtle, her mother, Hank, the girls.

The ones she had failed to protect and the ones who had hurt her most. They morphed into grotesque caricatures of what they once were; becoming unrecognizable with long fingers and burning eyes. She opened her mouth to scream, but no sound came out. The creatures began to surround her as she still fell, smothering her with their heat and weight, pulling at her arms and legs, drowning out sight and sound. These black apparitions slid across her skin as the suffocating darkness grew. She felt herself suspended now, still, in silence.

She was the nucleus of an obsidian cell, the empty blackness pressing down on her. It filled her mouth and ears, leaving a rotten taste in her mouth.

There were whispers, words she could barely hear. They were hissing in her ear, they were inside her head. She could do nothing but hang, suspended there in that starless void as their murmurs grew louder and louder.

you are worthless

she counted on you

Cordelia struggled to speak, to dissent, but her voice was gone. Still louder they grew, as if they were next to her, above her, behind her.

She is gone because of you

You did this to her

You LOST her

She clawed at her eyes, at her face, anywhere to free herself. Her hands grabbed for purchase in the void only to find nothing there. She screamed to them inside her head that she had tried, that she was lost, that she didn't know where to begin.

The weight on her chest intensified, they were screaming now, roaring inside her head and all around her.

POOR LITTLE CORDELIA

SHE CAN'T HEAR YOU

YOU WON'T FIND HER

She swallowed hard against the dark tendrils snaking down her throat, her will drained. These wraiths haunted her every night. She had grown tired of fighting them off, tired of resisting this despair. What would happen if she gave in? Would she die? She found herself unable to care as her hands fell from her face. Maybe it was better this way.

Without warning, the darkness around her was pierced by a pair of hands that pulled her swiftly from her torment. She felt light and free, invigorated. She rubbed the last ashes from her eyes as the figure before her became clear.

Her heart rejoiced at the sight of Misty Day.

She opened her mouth to speak, furious to find that she was still unable. Misty laid a finger to Cordelia's lips, glancing over her shoulder as she spoke in hushed tones.

"I don't have much time. I'm fighting, Delia, you believe that I am, and you need to fight too. You have to find me. Don't give up, and let them help you. You have to go now. You have to wake up."

Cordelia was frozen in place; she was bursting with questions, but she could not move or speak. Something was tethering her to the ground, her legs heavy and immobile.

Suddenly the dream apparition of the young witch drew Cordelia close, hugging her tightly for a moment before shoving her roughly backwards. "Wake up, Cordelia!"

—

"Wake up, Cordelia!"

Cordelia shot up in her bed with a loud gasp as Zoe moved away from the woman she had been shaking. Queenie stood at the end of her bed and both girls had furrowed brows, their faced etched with concern.

"What…what are you girls doing in here? It's nearly morning."

Her voice was hoarse and her lips dry. Cordelia reached up to touch her cheek, embarrassed when her fingers made contact with damp skin. She had been crying.

"What was I doing?" She turned to look at Queenie, as Zoe had disappeared to the bathroom. She heard running water filling a cup and was grateful for the cool water Zoe presented her with. She took a long drink from the cup as Queenie explained.

"You were screaming. We could hear you from our room. We had to make sure you were okay. When we got here you were clawing at your face and crying. You even tried to hit Zoe. You got a mean left hook."

"Yeah, sorry about violating your privacy, Cordelia. And sorry for shaking you awake. We were just worried."

Cordelia rested her head in her hands and let out a weary sigh. "Thank you, girls. I do appreciate it. I don't know what I would do without you two. I'm fine now, you can go." She truly was lucky to have these two wonderful witches at her side. She was thankful for them. She was burdened by the loss of Misty, but these two did help ease the weight.

Queenie and Zoe exchanged quick glances and nods before Zoe stepped forward to stand beside Cordelia.

"You're not fine. We know you aren't, we can tell. We know it's because of losing Misty."

Cordelia raised her head from her hands, a protest already forming on her lips. Her eyebrows rose when Zoe placed a finger on her lips to silence her challenge, the same way her dream of Misty had done.

"Let me finish. Please?"

Cordelia pressed her lips together and nodded. There were to be no secrets among them. The three of them had decided that the first day. Secrets were what had played a part in the violence of the past few months and they had no place in the coven now.

"Since Misty died, we know that you can't sleep. You hardly eat, and your sunny disposition may fool the new girls but it doesn't fool us. I know you cry every night for her, and it breaks my heart. You are an incredible Supreme, but you are also a woman who lost someone…" Cordelia's panicked eyes met Zoe's, and she faltered. She knew then that what Cordelia had told her in a moment of weakness was to stay between them, at least for the time being,"…very important to her. You deserve happiness and if Misty is what makes you happy, we owe it to her to find a way to get her back. We miss her too."

Queenie stepped forward to stand at Zoe's side. She steeled her nerves and leaned down to be at Cordelia's eye level. "What if we told you we found a way to bring her back?"

"How? Where?" Cordelia looked up at them in shock. She had pored over every book at the Academy, searching for some sort of direction to take to find Misty and had found none. She had even been to Misty's shack in the swamps to try and find anything to guide her. Again there was nothing. If she couldn't find a trace of evidence for this kind of resurgence, what could they have found that gave them enough certainty to present the idea to her?

"Queenie and I have been keeping an eye out for things, stuff that the girls bring with them. We think we found something. It's dangerous, but I think we can do it if we work together. We can help, Cordelia. What do you say?"

Cordelia looked up at the ceiling. How many nights had she spent counting the labyrinthine designs there, wondering for hours if Misty was thinking of her? How much time had she wasted arguing with herself over whether or not she should share her feelings, or kiss the swamp witch next time the opportunity presented itself? There was always next time, over and over, and now there wasn't. Time had run out and Cordelia regretted every lost minute.

The specter of Misty had told her to let them help, didn't she? What if that wasn't just a dream? Was Misty able to reach out to her? If Misty was fighting to contact her, she had to be able to find her again.

Cordelia knew she was the true Supreme, but unlike her mother she knew that there would be times during her reign where she required the assistance of others. She would not allow pride to blind her to the importance of more than one mind working together towards a solution. Now these girls, her friends, these young but powerful witches of her Council were offering her the one thing she desired most, the return of the woman she loved.

She took a deep breath and exhaled slowly as she got to her feet.

Queenie was looking at her expectantly and Zoe was wringing her hands as they awaited Cordelia's reply.

"Show me what you've got."


	3. Chapter 3

If you won't dissect a dead frog, then you'll dissect a live one.

Misty screamed again, for the tenth time. For the hundredth time. For the thousandth time. She had been counting; every time she had to press the scalpel into that helpless frog was another tick. She would squeeze her eyes shut, as tight as she could, and focus on anything but the action she was taking. It was the saving grace of her sanity.

She had lost track what seemed like ages ago. How long had she been here? It felt like years; at other times it was as if it was only a day since she had failed to return to the world of the living.

While her temporal awareness was lacking, Misty found that with every consecutive cycle, she was able to refocus her mind just a little longer. It had started with her ability to get away from this hell, however briefly, when the sharp instrument pierced the frog's chest. At that moment, her mind would leap elsewhere. She caught only flashes of gray before she was wailing once more as the blood pooled in the dissection tray.

She had to revive it, she had no choice. Her heart ached as she felt the spark of life fade from the amphibian at her own hand. She felt obligated to reverse the damage she herself had done. This endless loop captured her soul; the guilt of being responsible for both the life and death of this creature is what pulled at her spirit.

Her only escape was that brief snap of that elsewhere, of another place that she could access only momentarily. She felt nothing there. It was empty and silent, a welcome reprieve from the constant agony she endured in her hell. That nothing became her singular salvation and she became obsessed with prolonging her time there.

While the actions of her body were set in a non-deviating routine, she found that she could focus a bit longer each time the cyclical scenario repeated. The only moment she had to be mentally present was to reanimate the frog, for as far away as she felt she could get, that action called her back. The events then began again, and with what seemed like an eternity of practice, Misty was able to be mentally absent for the duration of the event. No longer was she aware of being called a freak, or being accused of smuggling in a live frog. She was simultaneously in two places at once, carrying out actions in both instances but only being a participant in one.

It was the closest thing to positivity she had felt in as long as she could remember.

It was liberating. She felt she had attained some sort of victory; she was stuck in hell but at the same time she had found her own sort of independence from it.

She found that this vast expanse of drab lifelessness was much preferable to the sights and sounds of her high school suffering, and thus she began to explore it.

Misty found herself at a fixed point more often than not. The surface beneath her feet seemed solid enough; it swirled and changed hue with a hypnotizing irregularity. She crouched and pressed her palms against it; it was cool and thrummed with some sort of energy, though what sort Misty could not place.

She stood again, adjusting her skirt while taking stock of her surroundings.

The vast expanse of featureless ground extended as far as she could see in all directions. There was a sort of haze to the air that dissipated as she moved through it, her steps making no sound at all. The silence permeated the vacant space so completely that the sudden exclamation of her name caused her to cover her ears as she turned around.

"I know my voice isn't that annoying. I should be covering my ears with all the racket you've been making here. Took me forever to find you."

Standing before her was Nan, her arms crossed and her head cocked in a casual sort of way.

"Nan, why are you here? What is this place?"

Misty approached Nan with a cautious hand outstretched; she felt no change in the air as her fingers touched Nan's shoulder and vanished into the blackness of her dress. It was as if the younger witch had no solid form here. Misty drew her hand back, her brow furrowed in confusion.

"This is the between. I'm not really here. It's sort of like what you can do, except I can control it better. I'm not bound to any one place. You don't have long before you have to go so are you going to listen or not?"

Misty nodded, pressing her palms together; at least that much she could still feel. It was an odd juxtaposition to be able to see Nan but not touch her. She took a step towards the corporeal clairvoyant as she began to speak.

"I've been trying to find you to tell you that they are looking for you. I may be dead but I can still hear the living if I want to, and Zoe and Queenie are trying to find a way to get you back. If you can make it to this place then you can probably live again. There's something you have to do first."

They hadn't forgotten about her. That thought alone filled Misty with something she had long since forgotten. Hope. There was a way out of this damnable place. Those girls, her friends, were not treating her as a lost cause.

"I would do anything to get out of here. What do I gotta do?"

Nan glanced behind Misty for a moment, then towards what amounted to the sky in this place.

"They need Cordelia to help them; they can't do it alone. She's the Supreme now and she wants you back more than anyone, but her demons are worse than many of the ones I've seen. If you really are as powerful as I think you are, you can get her here, you can speak to her. She only dreams of failing you. The between and the dream world of the living are not that different. She will think it was a dream, but she will remember. If you concentrate on shared memories you can draw her to you. You have to be fast, though. Contact with a living spirit will send you back to your Hell prematurely. I can stay with you, but I can't help. You have to do it alone."

Alone.

Nan fell silent as Misty ruminated on this information, her scrutiny focused on the ever changing patterns at her feet. She wanted desperately to escape this place, to return to life and to light and to Cordelia. There was so much living left to do. She had no choice but to try. Zoe and Queenie hadn't forsaken her. Nan had even come to find her among the afterlife.

She had been so painfully alone for so long, but it was here in death that she realized that she had found a home. She had friends and family, and most of all she had Cordelia. The regret she had felt for so long now paled in comparison to the optimism she was beginning to experience, however muted by her current position that feeling was.

Misty bit her lip and lifted her eyes to Nan. She steeled her nerves, releasing the tightly clenched fists at her sides.

"I'll do it. How do I start?"


End file.
